


Breathe (No More)

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Breathplay, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheldon, Amy, and breathplay in the name of science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. psychosomatic addict insane

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at the BBT Kink Meme on the 6th of December. I am making no money off this work of fan fiction.
> 
> Yes, the chapter titles are from the Prodigy and Evanescence respectively.
> 
> * * *

Sheldon never knew how they got to sex in the first place, not when they came from a place of assiduously not holding hands, not touching, not kissing. Amy just had a way with latex, he supposed, convinced him that with his condom and her pill they'd be safe from germs, safe from pregnancy and its own inherent risks to their research.  
  
He knew a little about how they got from what the cynical hardcore BDSM types called "vanilla" sex (as though vanilla weren't a perfectly legitimate flavor  _thank you very much_ ) to the balance of power where Amy was on top more often than not, and not merely in the sense of her fondness for female-dominant sex positions. There was a part of him that liked to give over control, buried beneath days of the week underpants and OCD doorknocking.   
  
(Amy sometimes joked that she would condition the OCD right out of him. Sheldon just shook his head at her.)  
  
But as for the day that they took another step - a leap - beyond that again, he couldn't explain that at all.  
  
It wasn't Anything Can Happen Thursday, for one thing.  
  
  
"Have you ever read anything about the effects of oxygen deprivation during intercourse, Sheldon?" Amy asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.  
  
Somehow, they went from Sheldon's startled but affirmative response, to him flat on his back on her bed, her riding him, one hand planted on the mattress beside his head, the other curved across his throat just below his chin.  
  
It was nothing at first. Oh, not  _nothing_  - he'd grown accustomed to engaging in intercourse and didn't wholly dislike it, so his body was responding as it usually did. But as Amy pressed steadily down, and his breath came shorter and shorter, Sheldon felt a strange heat twisting in his chest.  _Oxygen deprivation_ , he thought dizzily,  _cerebral hypoxi-ahhh_ . Amy had let up a little and was watching him curiously; Sheldon could only see her as a blur with a tangle of hair around her face.  
  
"Okay?" she whispered.  
  
"...dear Lord." His voice was a strengthless whisper and she took it for a  _yes_  and started rocking her hips again. He had a moment to focus on how clean-dirty the sensation of being inside her was   
  
(the latex he associated with doctors' gloves and medical sterility; the feeling of her wetness on his tightly pressed-together thighs could only be associated with this particular act)  
  
before she leaned down a little harder on his throat, and the sight of her was the sight of some feral sexual being, some wild young maenad just coming into her prime and learning the tricks of the trade.  
  
Then dark roses, red-black roses, began to blossom in front of his eyes, and he could no longer see her. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears. He strove for breath, gasping for air and with need and  
  
"Amy," he managed through his tight-constricted throat, "Amy, please-"  
  
Her hand remained where it was for another thundering heartbeat and then let go, and as she released his throat Sheldon released himself into her, helpless to halt it as the oxygen came back to his lungs and his fingertips clawed at her hips.  
  
He was still gasping and blinking when she rolled off him and reached for the notebook by the bed and began to scribble.  
  
"I think the evidence is clear that oxygen deprivation heightens the male orgasm."  
  
"Mmmmhuh?"  
  
"You came your brains out, Sheldon."  
  
Quicker than either of them could have suspected him capable of Sheldon rolled onto his side and pulled her back against him, one arm around her waist, the other snaked under her neck and crossing over her throat, pressing her tight against his chest.  
  
"Give me the necessary refractory period," he murmured, "and I'll replicate the results on you."


	2. this will make sense when i get better

Amy was sure she wouldn't last long and it would ruin the experiment; she'd been teetering on the edge and although she'd cooled down considerably in the time that it took Sheldon to get hard again, as soon as he pushed back into her she was there again, body humming with helpless need.

He had one hand on her hip, both steadying her and pulling her back against him; his chin pressed against the top of his head and their ankles tangled together made her feel quite surrounded by him. He had two fingers against the base of her throat, perhaps not the best place to measure her pulse, but she could hear him counting seconds in a low whisper. How he could concentrate on that and on moving in her, Amy didn't know; she felt faint already.

Baseline established, Sheldon shifted to pull her even tighter against him, and his forearm folded across her throat. Amy felt her pulse leap and flutter with surprise, and not just in the beat of her heart in her chest, but echoed by the tightening of her inner muscles around him. 

At first she couldn't tell the difference, but then Sheldon's arm tightened across her throat, as though he'd predetermined exactly what degree of pressure to apply, and Amy let out a surprised gasp that she then had to work to recover. Her head began to feel as though she was floating in some sort of hazy sea, the sun beating down on her closed eyelids, making the blur behind them turn red. People were right, she thought; it did make everything feel more intense. She could feel every whorl, every ridge of Sheldon's fingertips on her skin; as for how he felt moving inside her, it was push-push-pushing her back toward that highest of high points.

His arm squeezed harder and Amy thought: _Sheldon touch me come on please I need your hand as well as your cock please Sheldon_ , and realized only when Sheldon let out a little gasp of his own that she'd said it aloud, the words coming out in a series of whimpers.

Her own hand moved dreamily down between her legs to try to finish this, and she'd almost made it when Sheldon grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand behind her back.

"Don't do that, you'll confound the experiment," he said, but he'd just introduced another variable himself and Amy, caught between his arm across her throat, his hand around her wrist, his leg hooked over hers, found enough breath left in her to cry out as she came.


End file.
